


The Art in a Con

by Suzelle



Category: Anastasia (1997)
Genre: Gen, Hijinks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-20
Updated: 2010-12-20
Packaged: 2017-10-13 20:23:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/141389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suzelle/pseuds/Suzelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dimitri and Vlad try one more for old times' sake.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Art in a Con

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Elderberryink](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elderberryink/gifts).



“No.”

“Come on, it would just be this one time—“

“Absolutely not.”

“You don’t seem to have a problem when it’s for your grandmother’s fancy parties—“

“That’s because I know it’s the only way I can get you to come!”

“Damn straight, sister,” Dimitri fought the urge to drop the whole conversation. If he was going to pull this heist, he wanted to at least try for Anya’s approval.

“I thought you said that you didn’t even enjoy the whole Duke of Siberia act at Grandmama’s parties,” Anya said, “didn’t like to pretend to be someone you’re not?”

“Well, it’s…it’s…” Dimitri ran a hand through his hair, trying to see if he could get her to understand. “It’s one thing if I’m doing it at some stuffy state whatsit, to impress some Parisian dignitary, but there’s no real payoff to it. Nothing to be gained. And besides, it’s…”

            “Boring?” Anya finished with an arched eyebrow.

            “Yes, exactly!” Dimitri pounced on the word. “A true con has nothing to do with socialite dinners and trying to build a reputation. It has to do with convincing people that you’re just honest enough for you to trust them, right before the big payoff. And you know there’s always a bit of a risk to it, a few missteps that happen along the way…”

            “Like jumping out of the side of an out-of-control train?” said Anya sardonically, still unimpressed.

            “Well, that was a bit extreme,” Dimitri conceded, “Look, I know there’s no need for me to do these things anymore, and I know—I do!—how badly it would look for your family if I was found out. But I’m _good_ , Anya, and you know it. It wouldn’t happen. Besides, Vlad owes this guy a favor…”

            “Oh, _Vlad_ owes someone a favor!” Anya threw up her hands in equal parts exasperation and amusement. “Well, if Vlad owes someone a favor, then by all means that’s his business, but what the hell does he need _you_ for?”

            “Because I told you,” Dimitri answered, “I’m the best…” he snuck up behind Anya and wrapped her arms around her, “In more ways than one.”

            Anya groaned and shoved him away, “You’re not earning yourself any points here, maestro.” Then she smiled. “I haven’t seen you this insistent about something since I tried to persuade you to keep Pooka’s puppies. You really miss it, don’t you?”

“Yeah…yeah, I guess I do”

“Well, I suppose if it gets it out of your system, one con couldn’t hurt that much.” She turned to him, fixing him with her best icy glare.  “But if you’re caught or found out, you’ll have _me_ to answer to after the police.”

Dimitri shuddered. “Fair enough conditions, I suppose.”

*******************************

 

            “Come now,” said Vlad in his usual cheerful demeanor, “If you’re going to look the part of distinguished museum curator, you must at least act it.”

            “I still don’t understand how I let you talk me into this,” muttered Dimitri, pulling at his necktie, “Or why you can’t walk in there with me, since this was your idea in the first place.”

            “Because I’m respectable now, my dear boy, and I’m getting on in years” Vlad reminded him, smirking slightly. “My time for such capers has past. Could you imagine the scandal?”

            “What, and marriage to a long-lost princess isn’t respectable? Or noticeable?”

            “I hate to say it, Dimitri, but I believe your image has been eclipsed by your lovely wife. Whereas I have worked hard to reclaim the former glories and trappings of imperial life…” he chuckled as Dimitri rolled his eyes. “No no, my boy, I must live vicariously through you from now on. And besides, one for old times’ sake can’t hurt.”

            “No, I suppose not,” Dimitri sighed. “How do you even know this Deveroux anyway? I’ve never heard of him before…”

            “Oh, someone _long_ before your time,” Vlad replied, “But he’s perfectly reliable and trustworthy, as well as I can remember. Once you have the painting, you simply have to meet him at the Concorde bridge to hand it over. He pays you, takes the painting for himself, and… _fin!_ ”

            “I still don’t know how I feel about stealing art from the Louvre, Vlad. Seems a tad low, even for us.”

            “But it’s not stealing if they _give_ you the painting, my boy. All you have to do is persuade them that you’re from some restoration society. After all, it’s been some time since Rembrandt painted that Bathsheba whatsit, anyway. It shouldn’t be that hard to convince them that some restoration is needed.” 

            “Yeah…” the more Dimitri thought about the whole operation, the more dubious he felt.  “Yeah, this is going to go great.”

***************************

 

            Dimitri fought the urge to check his watch again. He had been waiting at the Concorde for nearly a half hour, and Deveroux was long overdue. Dimitri had tried to keep up a nonchalant, inconspicuous appearance, but the bag that held the painting was cumbersome and bound to attract the attention of anyone looking too closely.

            Though, he supposed, as he had been allowed to walk out of the building with hardly a raised eyebrow, he doubted anyone _would_ be looking too closely. He had actually been astonished at how easy it had been. As much as he had dreaded going into the museum with practically no knowledge of art, the moment he was ushered into the curator’s office the old, practiced charm had taken over. Even after convincing both Anya and himself that he was still one of the best con men in the business, he had forgotten the ease with which he could slip into a persona. And he had certainly forgotten how tantalizing the experience was.

            Now, if only Deveroux would show up…

            Finally, he spotted a mousy, disheveled-looking man running towards him before skidding to a halt, panting.

            “So sorry, my lad,” he said, panting, “had to make sure I wasn’t being followed. The Louvre’s in an uproar already.”

            “ _What?_ ”

            “Yes yes yes, apparently the museum’s board of directors found out what you’ve done already. Told the curator they would under no circumstances have authorized the release of the painting to the International Art Restoration Society, particularly as there _is_ no such society…”

            Dimitri cursed. “If I had thought they’d be so quick to check their facts…”

            “Yes yes yes, well, no time for regrets now,” Deveroux glanced nervously about, stopping to eye two police officers who had begun to approach them. “You’d best hand that over to me now, and…well, give Vlad my regards, eh?”

            At that, he grabbed the bag that held the painting from Dimitri’s hands, and fled down the bridge at a dead run. Dimitri cursed again, as the police started running towards them. _Any idiot who’s worked a job like this knows not to panic, least of all when the police are watching!_

There was nothing for it now. As the officers shouted for him to stop, he turned tail and pushed past them to run in the opposite direction.

********************

 

“Well, my friend, I must say that was the most spectacular chase I have ever had the privilege of witnessing,” Vladimir congratulated Dimitri later that evening. “As if the grand entrance through my bathroom window wasn’t enough, the fact that you managed to keep your coat collar obscuring your face the entire time was particularly impressive. I congratulate you.”

Dimitri snorted. “I don’t know if spectacular is really the way to describe it. I had to have _some_ way to make sure the police wouldn’t recognize me, though. And then of course, I could hardly see where I was going, yet alone that woman pushing that damn fruit cart in front of me.” He turned to glare at Vlad. “And Deveroux better well find some way to pay me after all this. The minute he saw the police he grabbed the painting and ran, not so much as a thank-you-very-much.”

 “So…what have we learned?” Anya asked as she applied a bandage to the cut on Dimitri’s forehead.

“Next time I’m chased by half of the Parisian police force I should probably avoid running smack into...Ow!” Dimitri winced as Anya yanked the bandage tightly, tying it off and glaring at him for good measure. “...No more cons?” he finished weakly.

“No more cons,” she answered sweetly.

Vlad chuckled. “Famous last words, your Majesty.”

 


End file.
